Nothing Left to Lose
by almaghest
Summary: Harry returns to Hogwarts for his 6th year to find quite a few odd things going on, and he isn't the only one entirely unprepared for what results.
1. Chapter One

Chapter One

Ever since Harry Potter had first attended Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, his least favorite part of every school year had been spending time over the summer at number four, Privet Drive and with the exception of Tonks's plentiful letters, this summer had by far been the most miserable and uneventful.

With the onset of Lord Voldemort's new reign of terror having actually been acknowledged by the Ministry of Magic, every wizard and witch in the magical world was acting many times more suspicious than was probably necessary. Letters sent by owls were all very carefully monitored, each one dissected and meticulously examined so that the Ministry could be absolutely sure none of the Dark Lord's Death Eaters were communicating via owl. Harry was sure none of them would be quite that stupid, as it wasn't hard for someone to intercept an owl, but he was also sure the Ministry didn't particularly care what he thought.

Even the Daily Prophet, which – although biased – had once provided Harry with one of his only sources of information regarding the wizarding world during the summer, had been degraded to merely pointing out time and time again things that had already become obvious. Hermione and Ron could no longer write gossipy letters full of information they might have picked up, and the subscription of _The Quibbler_ Luna 'Loony' Lovegold had provided him for free did him no good at all. When Harry had last seen Ron and Hermione on the platform of nine and three-quarters they had both promised to see him soon, but were obviously unable to keep said promises.

The members of the Order of the Phoenix, however, had kept their promise to make sure that Harry was safe, sound, and comfortable during his stay at the Dursley's. They had assigned an Auror named Nymphadora Tonks – who preferred to be called only Tonks with the task of writing Harry a letter every three days, and they insisted Harry reply to each and every one of them. Tonks's letters were all lovingly composed, but frustratingly uninformative and they did nothing to fill the void that the letters from Harry's deceased Godfather, Sirius Black, had once completed.

Harry constantly dreamt of Sirius. He had dreams that he met Sirius's ghost, dreams that he saw Sirius in crowded places he had never been, dreams that Sirius would come take him away from the Dursley's. He even had dreams that he was merely dreaming having any dreams at all, and in those dreams he awoke to a world were Sirius had never been enveloped in the veil and communicated to him freely. He tried to repair the mirror Sirius had given him that he had shattered in a fit of rage, hoping he might catch a glimpse of Sirius in it somehow, but he never quite succeeded.

At first Tonks had addressed the Sirius issue in her letters, but Harry only responded with the same thing every time – he was still in denial, and Tonks's letters couldn't change that. After awhile the letters left the subject alone and Harry almost regretted it, forced for once to bear the burden of his loss completely alone and without support.

Tonks was living with Sirius's – former – good friend, Remus Lupin, because it was supposedly more convenient for Order members to be in close proximity incase something came up and one or the other needed help quickly. In her letters, Tonks touched on the possibility that she was harboring a deep affection for Professor Lupin (who wasn't actually a professor), but she never actually admitted it.

Reading any of the letters that sounded like they were from a lovesick teen made something inside Harry long painfully for the brief moments he had been allowed to spend with Cho Chang. Ginny, however, occasionally wrote him letters that spoke of Michael Corner, her most recent ex who had apparently been rubbing his relationship with Cho in Ginny's face, and Harry was quickly reminded that Cho was spoken for and he had more pressing things to worry about.

In reality, Harry did not have more pressing things to worry about. He had done all his homework early in the summer, seeing as he was bored and most of it was easy. Professor Firenze had assigned an annoying and lengthy paper all of his students were to do about omens, but Harry had stopped taking Divination at the end of his fifth year. He had aspirations of becoming an Auror and had learned from Tonks that Divination and Muggle Studies were probably the two most useless classes a wannabe-Auror could take.

Instead, Harry wanted to take Ancient Runes, at the very least. It would be nice to have a class without Ron for once, and although ancient, no one had ever said runes were useless. He wasn't sure what else he wanted to take, since he had yet to receive the results of his O.W.Ls. Tonks had mailed him a few books about runes that he had read over numerous times, and he was left with nothing to do now besides skim idly through the latest edition of _The Quibbler_.

Now that he had time to think about it, there had been at least one incident that was somewhat significant that summer. A woman from Uncle Vernon's drill firm, Grunnings, had – according to Uncle Vernon – invited herself over for dinner one evening in early June.

Uncle Vernon insisted this was one of the most important dinners they would ever host as far as business went, despite that the woman was coming over uninvited, and he demanded everything be perfect. Uncle Vernon often distanced himself from individuals who were capable of making a social faux pas as great as this woman evidently had made, although Harry noted that Uncle Vernon knew enough about her to know her favorite foods were crepes and omelets and demanded they be prepared for dinner.

When Uncle Vernon attempted to hide Harry away in his room and deny all evidence that he existed, Aunt Petunia kindly pointed out that Harry was the best in the household at preparing breakfast foods, as they had often forced him to do so.

"Besides," Aunt Petunia had added quietly to Uncle Vernon, obviously unaware Harry could overhear her, "If we lock him away, he might write to that awful godfather of his."

Uncle Vernon had grunted and nodded his head in brief assent. Harry had never told them his godfather had been killed the previous spring, and he never planned to tell them. It was apt to be nothing but to his benefit if they thought him alive and as long as they never spoke directly to Harry about Sirius, he promised himself he wouldn't break down in front of them.

Harry had, per Aunt Petunia's suggestion, been drafted into preparing dinner that night. Although he cooked absentmindedly, the food still turned out wonderfully, as Harry's breakfasts (although dinner in this case) always did. The woman had arrived shortly after seven, looking as professional as Harry supposed someone who Mrs. Weasley might say was "blessed in the chest" could look.

Aunt Petunia had given her an appraising look, neglecting to introduce herself as Uncle Vernon let the woman into the house and announced her name to be Ms. Veronica. Ms. Veronica wore a suit that consisted of a coat and a short shirt with matching tie that made her look more like a badly dressed trick-or-treater who wanted to be a secretary than a business woman.

As they ate, Ms. Veronica complemented the food many more times than was necessary and every time she did, Uncle Vernon took credit for the culinary delights. Ms. Veronica laughed with a horribly false sense over-joyment, her bosom bouncing noticeably as she did so, and every time this happened Uncle Vernon and Dudley would both did whatever they could to keep her laughing. Aunt Petunia shot them both disapproving looks throughout the larger part of the evening.

Eventually Aunt Petunia became so fed up with the antics of her son and husband that she slammed her silverware onto the table and said quite loudly, "I need to speak to you, Vernon." Everyone looked over at Aunt Petunia and Ms. Veronica even gave her a wave of her hand as though to say she was allowing her to speak. "… In the other room." She added, standing and stalking huffily down the hall.

Ms. Veronica, who had been sitting next to Harry throughout the duration of the evening, leaned over to him. Harry almost expected her to stroke his leg or something, but instead she – rather to surprisingly – opened her mouth to speak. "Vernon wasn't always such a pompous ass, you know." She said in a quiet, breathless voice.

Harry raised an eyebrow, a silent indication that he wanted to know more without alerting his oblivious cousin Dudley that they were having any semblance of a conversation.

"Yeah, ever since his family finally decided he was actually a squib, he never really got over it." She said in the same hushed voice. "Even that disgusting Marge was better off than him, but they made the entire family forget their ways after the fit he threw. It's no wonder he married someone as horrible as _her._" She finished with a smirk, gazing avidly at Dudley who was watching her chest and nothing else.

Harry's mind went blank for a moment. He opened his mouth, but only slurred stuttering came out and he found himself unable to voice any coherent thoughts. Had she just told him Uncle Vernon was a squib? Yes, she had said squib, he was sure of it. Harry came horribly close to fainting right there and winding up with a face full of egg and ham.

Aunt Petunia stalked back into the kitchen, Uncle Vernon close behind, looking like a hurt puppy. Uncle Vernon explained that dinner was over and they were all very tired and Ms. Veronica had to leave. He paused for a moment before telling her where he would see her next ("… at … uh, work.") and was careful not to let Aunt Petunia see him touching her arm as he lead her to the door. Aunt Petunia had been in a fowl mood the remainder of the week.

Harry inwardly chucked, remembering how wonderful a feeling it had been to see Uncle Vernon so miserable while Aunt Petunia snubbed him. His thoughts lingered on the possibility that what that woman had told him that evening was indeed true. No one had ever told him much about Uncle Vernon's family and he didn't know any of his relatives on that side besides his former Aunt Marge. Besides, knowing how Hogwarts' caretaker Argus Filch acted as a result of being a squib, Harry didn't find the whole thing entirely beyond believing. However, he couldn't be sure of anything until he was back in the wizarding world.

Harry cast a brief glance around his room, kidding himself if he thought he might spot something worth doing. His eyes came to rest upon a stack of birthday cards and gifts nearly two weeks old and still sitting on his desk. His friends had learned that he preferred food over anything else as far as birthday presents went, and had supplied him with a plentiful amount of chocolate frogs and other assorted candies, although Tonks had sent him a quill and a bottle of ink specifically for drawing runes and Hagrid had provided an umpteen number of his specialty "cakes."

A slow, clumsy knock (Harry fleetingly wondered if it was even possible to knock clumsily) stirred Harry out of his reverie. "Mum said to bring you food," Dudley grunted from outside.

Harry forced himself to open the door for his overweight cousin, despite the fact it was unlocked (it never had a lock that worked from the inside to begin with) and Dudley was perfectly capable of opening it himself. Dudley grudgingly shoved a tray into Harry's hands, acting as though it might burn him if he held onto it any longer.

"Thanks." Harry said flatly, eyeing the tray. As Dudley grunted a goodbye and stomped off down the hall, Harry noted that Dudley had eaten the meat out of what he assumed was once a turkey sandwich and licked clean the small bowl of pudding Aunt Petunia had provided him. Dudley's parents continued to attempt keeping him on a diet, which was now stricter than ever and Dudley compensated by eating Harry's food as well as his own.

Hedwig ceased preening her wings long enough to cast Harry a longing glance as he poked around the remains of the sandwich. He let her have the top half loaf and occupied himself with carving holes into the bottom loaf with his fingernails rather than eating it.

While Harry was busily mutilating the ruins of his dinner, a small dark owl came through his open window and perched on the windowsill, regarding him curiously. It was intent on not disturbing Harry while he appeared to be eating, but after awhile began rustling its feathers impatiently until he looked up and saw it. He knew immediately what the owl carried and rushed over to receive his letter, stumbling over himself as he did so.

The owl stuck its leg out for Harry and tried to look as regal as was possible for such a small animal. Harry untied the letter rather awkwardly and smiled as he ran his fingers over the Hogwarts seal. He glanced at the owl out of the corner of his eye to find it was still sitting on the windowsill looking like it expected an award of some sort. Harry offered it the remains of his dinner, which were now all but unrecognizable and the owl chose to go find someone more appreciative of its services.

Harry opened the envelope and found concealed within a copy of the results of his O.W.Ls. He breathed in sharply before reading:

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_We hope this letter finds you well and trust you haven't gotten yourself into any trouble this summer. Within this letter, you will find the results of the O.W.Ls administered at the end of your fifth year as well as all of the classes available for you to take and the books required for each. You will pick a minimum of five classes or a maximum of nine, and send an owl with your choices._ _You will then acquire the books and supplies needed for those classes. Please use the contained career advice to assist you in selecting classes. If there are any problems with your choices you will be notified before the beginning of term on September 1st, so that you may still acquire the proper supplies._

_Your O.W.L results were: _

_ Astronomy: Exceeds Expectations_

_ Care for Magical Creatures: Outstanding_

_ Charms: Outstanding_

_ Defense Against the Dark Arts: Outstanding_

_ Divination: Dreadful_

_ Herbology: Exceeds Expectations_

_ History of Magic: Outstanding_

_ Occlumency: Outstanding_

_ Potions: Exceeds Expectations_

_ Transfiguration: Exceeds Expectations_

_ Based on your career advice meeting with your House Head during last year's second term, below is provided a list of possible… _

The letter continued on about career advice, supplies, and class options. Harry blinked awkwardly at the letter for a moment, trying to decide what about it was oddest. The first thing he noticed was his outstanding in Occlumency, a class that he had not officially even taken and hadn't even been any good at doing. He also found it odd that quite a few classes that were not previously offered to students in their 6th year (or anyone, as far as he knew) were suddenly being offered.

Over the next few minutes, Harry wandered around his room gazing at the letter in a daze. He neglected to read the entire letter, which he would regret later, but instead considered the classes available to him and tried desperately to remember what Professor McGonnagal had told him he needed to take at NEWT level to enter Auror training. In the midst of contemplating all of this, he received three more letters.

The first read:

_You got your letter from Hogwarts, too, right, Harry? I got a lot more OWLs than I expected and I'm… well… you know… Prefect again. Hermione didn't mention if she got Prefect too or not… But I got four Outstandings! I managed to scrape Acceptables in Astronomy, Potions, Divination, and Charms, too. Mum says you can come to Diagon Alley with us and we can come get you. Hermy is supposed to meet us there. Mum can use a phellyt tellyphone pretty well now, so she might call your aunt and uncle. _

_See you soon, Ron_

The second read:

_Dear Harry, _

_I can't believe it! I got Outstandings in everything, even Potions! I mean, not that I'm entirely surprised, but it's just so great. I hope you did well, too, I know Ron did. Well, considering it _is _Ron and everything. My parents are going to take me to meet him in Diagon Alley, I hope you can come. _

_Stay out of trouble,_

_Hermione_

The last letter was, of course, one of Tonks's usual letters. Apparently she had seen a copy of his OWL scores and congratulated him for the most part. She did take the time, however, to scold him for his Dreadful in Divination. She and Remus were going to meet the Weasleys and Hermione in Diagonal Alley and said they both looked forward to seeing him there.

Harry tossed the letters onto his bed and rushed out of the room. He planned on lingering downstairs until Mrs. Weasley called, like he was sure she would do. He found his Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon sitting stiffly on the living room couch, watching the evening news. Dudley was wandering about in the kitchen, no doubt trying to find a way to get food without anyone realizing it. Harry chose to entertain himself for a bit while he waited.

"'Ello," He said cheerfully as he entered the kitchen. Dudley jumped and turned to face Harry, letting loose a grunt that Harry supposed could have counted as a surprised squeal.

"I – I already brought you food… uh, already… go away," Dudley said, taking on a defensive tone. He tried desperately to lean casually on the countertop and look as though he hadn't been doing anything. His fat arm, however, kept slipping and keeping him from standing properly.

"Oh, yes, I know," Harry said with a nonchalant wave of his hand. "Tell your mum it was a very nice sandwich, considering there was nothing besides bread on it, would you?"

Dudley narrowed his beady eyes, watching Harry suspiciously. "There was meat on that sandwich," He insisted.

"Really?" Harry said, taking on a falsely skeptical tone. Dudley tried to nod his head, but his double chins and overly wide neck prevented him from doing so. The telephone rang, causing Dudley to jump again.

Dudley, who usually just ignored the telephone, insisted on rushing over to try to answer it once he noticed Harry doing so. Dudley beat Harry to the phone and swept it off the hook, the entire white phone nearly concealed in his pudgy fist. Aunt Petunia had already answered the phone in the living room, so Dudley contented himself with merely eavesdropping.

"I'll tell your mum you ate my sandwich unless you give me that," Harry said.

Dudley peered at him, failing to look unbelieving, and handed Harry the phone. "It's nobody anyway. Just some stupid woman." He said.

"I'll be the judge of that," Harry said, accepting the receiver. It was, indeed, Mrs. Weasley. She was much better than Mr. Weasley had been at using the telephone, and had rather fortunately not been forced to talk to Uncle Vernon.

"—we'll come and get him, you won't have to worry about it. We won't come in the house or anything, I promise. I'll just ring the doorbell and Harry can come outside and we'll leave. No trouble or anything," She was saying.

"Well," Aunt Petunia said, considering the matter carefully. "I'll have to ask Vernon what he thinks. Hold on just a moment."

The was a soft rustling noise as Aunt Petunia set the phone down and Harry could hear her talking the quietly to Uncle Vernon. Suddenly the sound of someone yelling "NO. ABSOLUTELY NOT. IF THEY DRIVE HERE OTHER PEOPLE MIGHT SEE THEM. HAVE YOU GONE MAD?" drifted in from the living room. Dudley smirked, folds of fat falling over his crooked smile, and Harry heard Mrs. Weasley give a muffed squeak.

There was more soft rustling as Aunt Petunia picked the phone back up. "Vernon says he would be delighted to have Harry spend the remainder of the summer with you," she said. Harry could hear Uncle Vernon's sounds of protest both over the phone and in the next room. Mrs. Weasley sounded positively overjoyed and told Aunt Petunia they would be over to pick him up the following morning. They exchanged goodbyes and Aunt Petunia hung the phone up.

Dudley was looking more suspicious than ever now, so rather than hanging the phone up, Harry offered the receiver back to Dudley. Dudley took it, pushing it to his ear as though he expected it to answer all of his questions.

Harry appeared in the entrance to the living room just as Aunt Petunia yelled for him to come downstairs. "Hi," Harry said immediately after she closed her mouth, and she looked up at him, bewildered.

"See? See!" Uncle Vernon demanded, his wide mustache bristling angrily. "He was using his… his…" he lowered his voice to a whisper, "… his magic…" and then much louder once again as he finished, "to spy on us in our own home, Petunia! How else would he know we wanted him that quickly? You can't let him spend the summer with those – those people!"

"She seemed decent enough to me," Aunt Petunia said simply. "She wasn't yelling and promised not to destroy our living room. Besides, it isn't the entire summer. It's hardly even a week, Vernon," she added soothingly.

Harry barely managed to conceal a fit of laughter, highly amused by Mrs. Weasley's references to her husband's past unacceptable behavior around the Dursleys and Aunt Petunia's ability to remember the incidents. "I can go then, right?" He asked, planning on finding a way to go regardless of what either of his relatives said.

Uncle Vernon opened his mouth to speak, but Aunt Petunia cut him off. "Of course you can, but they're not allowed in the house and I would prefer only one of them come to do the door."

Harry ginned and Uncle Vernon's face turned a scarlet shade of red. "The most NORMAL looking one." He insisted loudly.

"I promise the most normal looking one will come to the door," Harry assured him.

Harry left the room feeling more elated than he had in months. Even Dudley, who was standing at the foot of the stairs ready to smash Harry's head into a pulp if he wasn't told what was going on, was unable to shift Harry from his new state of mind.

Once upstairs Harry hurriedly tidied his room, packing all the things that he would need at Hogwarts into his trunk so that he'd be ready in the morning. He attempted to use Tonks's _'pack'_ spell to quickly stow everything away, but found himself even worse at it than she had been. Hedwig put forth feeble squawks of protest at not being allowed outside for the night, but eventually became tired and ceased her hooted complaints.

Harry slept better that night than he had in the past three months and unbeknownst to him better than he would for many more.


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Harry awoke far earlier than he actually needed to. He opened his eyes to find his room the color of twilight and he knew that the sun had not quite risen yet. Hedwig was still asleep in her cage, her feathers rustling every now and then as she shifted in her sleep. The knowledge that in only a few hours Harry would be with his friends back in the wizarding world made it impossible for him to resist the urge to grin.

He turned over and fluffed his pillow a bit, trying to will himself off to sleep again. It would be at least another hour until he could safely get up and wander about the house while he waited on the Weasleys and it was going to be an impossibly long hour if he was awake to experience it.

However, after a bit, Harry was forced to give up. He sat up on the edge of his bed, facing away from the window and watching the rising sun seem to set the walls aflame. His eyes fell on his trunk that he had packed the night before. It was still open, as he hadn't quite finished when exhaustion had overtaken him and caused him to collapse onto his bed. The only thing left to pack was the old mirror Sirius had given him. Its pieces lay wrapped on a cloth on the floor beside the trunk.

Momentarily, Harry felt the twang of disappointment he had felt the day he realized that he could not use the mirror to contact Sirius. It left him as quickly as it had come, but he still felt reluctant to actually pack the mirror, for it was a haunting reminder of how close yet how far Sirius was.

Either he had awoken later than he thought or had spent far more time contemplating the mirror than he had meant to, as he heard the sounds of people moving about downstairs. He had very little desire to talk to Aunt Petunia, so he went back to lying on his bed and studying his rather dull ceiling.

Harry heard Dudley grunting as he passed Harry's door on his way to the bathroom. When Dudley had finished his business, he came and opened Harry's door. Harry didn't even bother sitting up or turning his head to look at his cousin.

"Mum made me come tell you breakfast's almost ready." Dudley stated, his speech a series grunts interjected by consonants.

"I thought I was making breakfast." Harry mumbled, still not bothering to look at Dudley.

"What's that?" Dudley grunted, although Harry was sure he been audible enough to hear.

"Nothing." Harry muttered.

Dudley stood in the doorway a moment longer and Harry decided he probably had a puzzled look on his face while he did so. When Dudley finally left, he slammed the door (probably to spite Harry more than anything else) with so much force that it bounced back open. Dudley gave a grunt of satisfaction and disappeared down the corridor.

Harry sensed someone standing in his doorway shortly after Dudley had left. He turned his head and found that it was Aunt Petunia. "Your friends will be here soon." She reminded him.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Harry sensed there wasn't something quite right about her. He decided it would be best not to argue lest she change her mind and go back to ignoring him and babbling about how wonderful her Duddykins was. "Right, I know." He grumbled. "I'll be down in a minute."

Aunt Petunia gazed at him a moment longer before leaving. Harry didn't really care what was going on with them enough to think about it for more than just a moment. He hastily stuffed the remains of Sirius' old mirror into his trunk, no longer caring how it made him feel. Today wasn't a day he wanted to spend sulking about Sirius and wondering what would have happened if Sirius had his mirror on him that night.

Harry set about the annoying and lengthily process of dragging his trunk down the stairs without the aide of magic. This process was considerably shortened when Harry lost his grip on the trunk at the very top of the staircase and the entire thing went sliding down the stairs like a sled on a snow covered hill. It slammed into the front door with an audible crack, causing the door frame to rattle.

"Err - I'm alright!" Harry shouted from the top of the stairs. He wasn't quite sure why he thought anyone might care. He hurried down the stairs and moved his trunk out of the way of the door, which now sported a rather impressive split down its middle. He didn't think Uncle Vernon would notice before that afternoon.

Harry hurried away from the scene of the crime and into the kitchen. Neither Aunt Petunia or Dudley looked up at him as he took a seat at the table. The sound of Uncle Vernon spewing profanities drifted in from the adjacent room.

Aunt Petunia looked as though she was pretending none of it was happening until Uncle Vernon entered the room and addressed her directly. "WHAT HAPPENED TO THE DOOR!" he shouted, spittle flying everywhere.

"It's always been like that, dear." She responded pleasantly, without so much as a wink to Harry or any sort of indication as to why she was covering for him. Harry didn't think she could possibly be dense enough not to realize the split in the front door hadn't always been there, but he didn't plan on arguing. Instead, he quickly had some breakfast and then slipped out of the room to spend the remainder of his time on Privet Drive in the Dursleys' living room.

Uncle Vernon had, as usual, left the television set on. The evening news from the night before was being replayed for those who had missed it previously. Harry didn't pay particular attention to what was on, although he noticed that there was an abnormally large number of stories about babies being born with extra limbs or in a variety of colors.

It was not long before Harry heard the sound of a car pulling into the driveway. He went to the window to glance out and found that the Weasleys had managed to acquire yet another perfectly nondescript looking Ministry car. He watched as Ron got out of the back, turned around to say something to someone in the car, then closed the door and made his way to the Dursleys' porch.

Harry couldn't help but laugh as he remembered promising his Uncle Vernon that the most "normal" looking Weasley would come to the door, when he knew full and well that Ron didn't particularly fit the requirement.

Harry hurried to the front door to find that Aunt Petunia had beaten him there and was trying to keep Uncle Vernon from opening the door and chasing off Ron. She managed to open it right as Ron reached the doorstep and Ron down stared at her blankly.

"Hello," She said, so cheerily that she disturbed Harry. "I suppose you're here to get Harry?" She waved Ron onwards as though inviting him in.

Ron just stood there gaping at her. He managed to stutter out a yes as Harry shoved his trunk past Aunt Petunia and out the front door. Ron grabbed one side of the trunk rather clumsily and helped Harry to heft it off the ground.

"See you!" Harry said, matching Aunt Petunia's weirdly cheery tone as he backed off the porch.

Ron managed to chime in with a weak "Er – well, g'bye, then."

Aunt Petunia disappeared back into the house, leaving Uncle Vernon to stand in the doorway looking as though he didn't quite believe Harry was really getting away from him. He didn't say anything until Harry's trunk had already been stowed in the back of the car, and even then all he could do was manage some loud grunts and a bit of moustache bristling.

Ron let Harry into the car first, and he scooted into the middle seat to find Hermione sitting in the farthest seat. He grinned at her and she smiled back as Ron slipped in on the opposite side. Ginny turned around in the front passenger seat to say hello to Harry and Mr. Weasley did the same.

"Is something wrong with your aunt?" Ron asked as he pulled his door shut.

"I don't know." Harry answered honestly. "She's been sort of nice lately. I'm not complaining."

"I think it's nice of her." Hermione chimed in cheerily. "It's about time she started treating you like another human being."

"Er – yeah…" Harry agreed. "I guess you're right." He turned to look out the window at Number 4 Privet Drive as they began down the street away from the house. Uncle Vernon yelled out something as they began to drive away, then slammed the door. Harry watched as the crack his trunk had made extended across the door, and then the entire thing split in two and fell off its hinges. Harry burst out laughing.

"What is it?" Hermione demanded, turning to see where Harry was looking.

"Nothing," He assured her. He then turned to Ron and through gritted teeth asked, "Since when can your dad drive?"

"Oh, he can't." Ron answered, smiling.

When Harry simply gave him a horrified look, Ron realized he needed to explain a bit further. "The Ministry's got these new cars that basically drive themselves. It just sort of knows where you want to go, and it goes there. They're brilliant, really." Harry was afraid to ask what would happen if all the people in the car thought they wanted to go different places. He tired not to think about it too hard lest he upset the car somehow.

As they couldn't exactly discuss anything of consequence with Mr. Weasley and Ginny in the car, the rest of the car ride was spent discussing frivolous things, such as the results of their OWLs and the sorts of classes they were going to take. Harry started to point out how strange it was that things like Occlumency and Legilimency were being offered as classes, but Hermione quickly shushed him.

Harry wanted very badly to know what had been going on in the wizarding world while he had been locked away with the Dursleys and consequentially the car ride seemed to take hours. When they finally pulled onto Charing Cross Road and the Leaky Cauldron came into view, Hermione actually had to tell Harry to stop fidgeting, and when they stopped the car to unload everything, Harry nearly knocked Ron out of the car sideways in his hurried attempt to get out.

Tom came out of the Leaky Cauldron almost instantly. "Been expecting you, Harry!" He said, giving Harry a toothless grin. "Yer friends're waiting inside."

"What friends?" Harry asked Ron quietly as soon as Tom wasn't paying attention.

"Oh, erm." Ron glanced at Hermione, looking rather uncomfortable. Hermione seemed to urge him onwards with her eyes. "See, Tonks and Lupin are here. I guess they thought you'd need, um, protection or something." Ron scratched the back of his head and looked as though he thought Harry was going to bite his head off.

"Ron, that's great!" Harry said happily. "Er – why do you look so down about it?"

Ron started to say something, but Hermione interjected. "It's nothing, Harry." She said sweetly. "C'mon, let's go on in and get our rooms, shall we?"

Ron hurriedly agreed with her and they both rushed into the Leaky Cauldron before Harry had a chance to question them further. Harry followed them in and found the Leaky Cauldron just as he had remembered it; dingy and full of odd looking characters. Mr. Weasley was talking to Tom, looking rather annoyed.

"It isn't my fault we don't have quite enough rooms." Tom was saying. "Take 'em or leave 'em."

Mr. Weasley turned around and sighed. "I suppose I could bunk with Ginny." He said, "Do you three think you could share?"

Hermione beamed brightly at him. "Of course. Ron can sleep on the floor." She elbowed Ron when he started to protest.

Tom assisted Harry, Ron, and Hermione in getting their trunks up the stairs to room number 7. Once they had all their things in and the door was shut, Ron collapsed onto one of the two beds. Hermione took a seat on the end of the same bed, and Harry slunk down into a dilapidated chair in the corner of the room.

"So if Tonks and Professor Lupin are staying here, why didn't they come out to, you know, see us or something?" Harry asked.

Ron grunted something. Hermione shrugged. "I don't know," She said, "I suppose they're off doing something for the Order. You've been in contact with them more than we have."

"Then why didn't I know they'd be staying here too?" Harry muttered.

Hermione frowned. "I think they didn't want to tell you because of how you've reacted to people thinking you needed to be watched before…" She trailed off, looking uncomfortable at having told him the truth.

Harry started to say something, but was interrupted by a knock on the door. Before anyone could actually give her permission to come in, Ginny had let herself into the room. "Hermy!" She said happily, running over to Hermione. "Cho Chang is staying in the room across from this one, all by herself. There's two beds and she said you could stay with her if you wanted to."

Hermione glanced at Harry as if wanting to see his reaction and Harry simply shrugged. "Sure," Hermione said, "That's really nice of her. Could you help me take my trunk over there, Harry?"

"I could d-" Ron started to say, but was interrupted by Hermione shifting her weight so that her elbow rested in his gut and the rest of his sentence turned into a bunch of gurgling.

"… I guess so." Harry said with a sigh.

Helping Hermione move her trunk actually consisted of shoving it across the hall while Ron watched looking dejected and Hermione and Ginny ran ahead to socialize with Cho. When Harry finally managed to get the trunk into room number 9, Cho simply stood there and stared at him.

"Er – hi." Harry tried.

"… Hi, Harry." Cho mumbled, glancing down at her feet.

Harry looked from Cho to Hermione to Ginny back to Cho, trying to find some help or some excuse to leave the room. After a bit of awkward silence, he finally managed to blurt out, "Er, how's Michael Corner?"

"I don't know." Cho responded, wringing her hands. "I haven't spoken to him since June."

Hermione began to look uncomfortable and Ginny finally picked up on the fact that it might be a good idea to leave. "Hey, Harry," She said, "Let's go see who's staying in the other rooms, okay?" She grabbed his arm and lead him out of the room.

"Thanks." Harry said, breathing a sigh of relief once they were out of Cho and Hermione's earshot.

"It's no problem." Ginny said, shutting the door to room number 9. "Speaking of the people staying in the other rooms, um, I think Malfoy is here…"

"Really? With who? Why's he here and not at his house? Why's _Cho_ here?"

"I think Cho wanted to get away from her parents." Ginny shrugged. "I didn't really ask, it's hard not to upset her." Harry grinned, glad he wasn't the only one who felt this way. "As for Malfoy," Ginny frowned, "I'm not really sure. I've seen him with, um, this gi—er, her!" Ginny pointed down the corridor past Harry.

Harry turned around and saw a girl that looked about his age making her way up the stairs. She wasn't dressed like a nutty wizard or anything, so Harry decided to find out who she was. "Hey, you!" He shouted down the corridor. Ginny looked terrified that he had decided to harass a total stranger. When the girl looked up, Harry added, "Yeah, you!"

As the girl walked down the corridor towards them, Harry got a better view of her. She was bone pale, much like Draco himself, although she bore little resemblance to him otherwise. In fact, Harry would not have been entirely unbelieving if someone told him that she was yet another Weasley, considering how lanky and covered in freckles she was. However, her hair was a dark auburn sort of color, rather unlike the flaming red that the Weasleys sported. When she reached them, she stared at Harry with her dark eyes.

"What?" She asked. Harry noticed she had an odd accent. Rather slow and slurred together.

"Who are you?" Harry asked.

"Evelyn." She answered flatly.

"Oh, I'm Har—"

"Harry Potter," She interrupted, "Yes, I know. It's rather obvious."

Harry made as though he was attempting to look up at his scar, then frowned. "Er – and this is Ginny Weasley." He added, nodding towards Ginny. Ginny gave a friendly wave.

"Oh, yes, how Draco loves you Weasleys." The girl said, with a sneer.

"I see you're not any better than he is, then." Harry said, barely resisting the urge to spit on the girl's shoes. "I'm sorry we bothered you, in that case."

Evelyn seemed to have a sudden change of heart and grinned at Harry. "Nah, it's nothing like that. I've just been spending so much time around them that being an insufferable snob is beginning to rub off on me. It's unfortunate, but I guess that's the price you pay."

"Why have you just suddenly started hanging out with them, then?" Harry asked.

"I'm a relative." Evelyn answered simply.

Draco picked that moment to emerge from room number 3 and to spot their little meeting down the corridor. He obviously could not resist the urge to come and be a pain, as he immediately made his way over. "I see you've met the amazing Harry Potter, have you?" Draco sneered. His gaze fell on Ginny. "Ah, and some Weasley scum, too."

"Get lost, you twat." Harry demanded. "We were actually having a marginally nice conversation until you came along."

"I didn't think Evelyn was capable of laying off the sarcasm long enough to have a decent conversation with anyone." Draco said, snickering.

The door to room number 9 opened, and Hermione emerged. "What's going on out here?" She asked, looking from person to person. "Why's Draco here? And who's that?"

"Ahh, and we're joined by the mudblood filth as well." Draco said, putting a disgustingly joyful tone in his voice.

Hermione ignored Draco and peered at Evelyn until she finally spoke. "Unfortunately, I'm the cousin of this blathering idiot." Evelyn admitted.

Hermione gaped, Draco decided he'd had enough fun, Evelyn tried to protest as Draco drug her off down the corridor to their room, and Harry stood their looking clueless as usual. Hermione ushered Ginny and Harry back into room number 7 as soon as Draco was out of sight.

"His cousin!" Hermione exploded, waving her arms madly.

Ron sat up on the bed, looking even more confused than Harry and Ginny. "She can't be his cousin!" Hermione continued. "That's impossible, she's got to be lying!"

"What are you going on about?" Ron demanded as Hermione stomped about the room muttering inaudible nonsense.

"Harry!" Hermione yelled, grabbing onto Harry's shoulders. "She's just making that up to bother us, isn't she? She is, right? Draco told her to say it. Please tell me Draco told her to say it."

Harry grabbed a hold of Hermione's head and forced her to look him head on. "What's the big deal, Hermione?" Hoping that if he spoke slowly, Hermione might reveal whatever she had figured out.

Hermione flopped backwards onto the nearest bed, squashing Ron's legs as he let out a yelp of pain. "Harry, Draco Malfoy is Tonks' cousin too, right?" She asked.

Harry thought a moment. He wasn't an expert on the Blacks's family history, but it only took him a second to realize she was right. "Okay, so what?"

"Well, Narcissa is Draco's mother. Andromeda is Tonks' mother. And the only Black left on that side of the family to be that girl's mother is…" Hermione trailed off as if not finishing her sentence would make the truth behind it go away.

"… Bellatrix." Ginny breathed.

"That's mad," Ron piped in, "Bellatrix Lestrange. She's not a member of the Black family."

"She married Rudolphus Lestrange, you twat." Hermione snapped, glaring at Ron.

"But that's still mad!" Harry insisted, taking over for Ron. "If Bellatrix had children, where have they been staying all this time that she's been in Azkaban? And why wouldn't they be under supervision now that… well, you know, what if Bellatrix wanted her back? Why is she staying with _Draco_ _Malfoy_?"

Hermione sighed. "Because the Malfoys are her closest living relatives."

"Besides Tonks' parents!" Harry shouted, not sure why he was outraged. "Why isn't she staying with them?"

"Maybe because Tonks' dad was a muggle." Hermione shrugged. "I don't know."

"But what difference does it make? And why now? Why would they bring her to live with the Malfoys now when we haven't heard of her or seen her or anything until _now_?" Harry demanded.

Hermione took a long time to answer.

"I don't think I want to know." She answered finally.


End file.
